


I only understand (because I love)

by starbuckx



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-07 12:37:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4263522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starbuckx/pseuds/starbuckx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Olicity drabbles. Whatever the muse demands. Most will be fluffy, because, come on, we've had enough angst already, haven't we?</p>
<p>1. Felicity has tons of plans for a weekend in Disney. Oliver thinks they should just sleep in. And by sleep in, he means just that - sleep.  No one had ever told him having kids was going to be THIS exhausting.<br/>2. Felicity is not at all surprised when she realizes that Oliver’s somewhere-far-away-from-here is actually somewhere-to-be-determined-later-if-Felicity-says-yes. Set post 3x23.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Oliver,” she slurs, her hand moving sloppily through the air and coming to rest again on the bed when it doesn’t come in contact with any part of his body. “Wha t’m ist?” she manages seconds later, just when he’d begun to think she’d forgotten all about this getting up at five in the morning nonsense.

And, though he knows his only chance to remain in bed, curled up next to the warm and inviting body of his wife is to lie through his teeth, what comes out when he actually opens his mouth is the truth. Even in the small things, he’s never been able to lie to her.

“Six fifteen.”

“Six …SIX FIFTEEN?” She’s sitting up in bed before he can try to distract her with hands and teeth and the promise of all the things they could get up to if they didn’t only…

Oh, yes, if they didn’t have a fifteen year and a five year old sleeping in the next room.

“Lyla is going to KILL me…” Felicity is out of the bed and into her shorts before Oliver can do much more than groan. “I promised her we’d all be down for breakfast at seven, and there’s no way I can get Connor and Tommy ready, much less Connor, Tommy AND you in thirty minutes. And, oh, God, nothing fits anymore. What am I supposed to wear?” she looks desperately around the room and her eyes seem to light up when she finds his half open suitcase. Ten seconds later she’s rolling up the sleeves on one of his button downs, and lecturing him at the same time. “No, don’t look at me like that. This is all yourfault, so I don’t care if watching me in your clothes makes you all hot and bothered because we don’t really have time for all of that, mister. And you know why we don’t have time? Because SOMEONE turned off my alarm.” she’s not really yelling, but her eyes are wide and her arms are moving and Oliver has never seen a more beautiful sight in his life.

“You needed sleep,” he doesn’t even try to sound apologetic. It’s not like she’d believe him. “The past few weeks have been hard on you. Lyla will understand.”

“No, Lyla will not understand, Oliver, because we’re not telling her. We’re not telling anyone, not yet. I thought we’d agreed. This weekend is supposed to be about Sara. So you get up this instant, Oliver Queen, and help me get your sons ready, or I’ll …I’ll …” 

“You’ll what?” He’s got her in his arms before she can formulate a response, and he figures he’s got at least thirty seconds before she slaps him, so he goes in for a kiss, and then promptly loses track of time. Her lips are soft, and one would think after almost ten years of knowing each other this would have gotten old, but it never has. He doesn’t think it ever will.

“I’ll …I’ll …I’ll…” she stammers as they come up for air minutes later.

“You’ll what?” he smirks.

“I’ll tell Lyla, and Thea and Laurel that it was all your fault!” she yells as she pushes at him and heads for the door. “And trust me, if you think having to deal with one hormonal woman and two kids in Disneyland is a problem; try dealing with THREE hormonal women and three kids!”

Math has never been one of his strengths, so it’s not till he hears the soft sounds of Felicity trying to rouse Tommy that her words finally hit him. “You meant ONE hormonal woman …right …Felicity …Felicity …tell me you meant ONE?”


	2. All day (Every day)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity is not at all surprised when she realizes that Oliver’s somewhere-far-away-from-here is actually somewhere-to-be-determined-later-if-Felicity-says-yes. Set post 3x23.

Felicity is not at all surprised when she realizes that Oliver’s somewhere-far-away-from-here is actually somewhere-to-be-determined-later-if-Felicity-says-yes. In most things, Oliver is a planner. And by most things, she means in Arrow-related-stuff, because in his personal life Oliver is a mess of ill-conceived notions and ideas that never quite manage to see the light of day.

So, she isn’t really expecting him to have a destination in mind when they finally – after an extremely long night of very little sleep – stumble into the Porsche, more tired than one had any right to be after spending the past twenty or so hours in bed.

But she would appreciated a general idea. She isn’t asking for much, really, just a boyfriend that doesn’t look at her exactly two seconds after turning on the car and asks, in a low and slightly raspy voice which does absolutely nothing to her insides. “Where to?”

Okay, and maybe she’d also like a boyfriend that doesn’t look at her like she’s the sun and the moon and all its stars combined, because, really, how is she expected to have any actual coherent thoughts if he’s looking at her like that? She really can’t be blamed for the things that come out of her mouth.

“Well, I was thinking somewhere with a beach. I love the beach. I mean, I love the  _idea_  of the beach, because it’s not like I’ve ever had a chance to be in many beaches. We didn’t really have money for road-trips when I was little, and yes, I did go once or twice when I was at MIT, but I was that girl …you know, glasses, always studying late? You can’t even imagine.” She pauses, then, before Oliver can get a word in, she answers herself. “Fine, you probably can imagine. But that’s not the point. The point is …sand…beach…you without your shirt on…sounds like …”

She blushes crimson at the choked noise that escapes Oliver’s throat, and she looks his way only to find that he’s smiling so brightly that her stomach does a somersault.

“Felicity…” he says, and he’s reaching for her hand without taking his eyes off the road – and other than head for a beach, she’s given him no indication of where they should be driving to, but he seems to have decided on a place, because his driving doesn’t seem mindless. Not that anything Oliver does ever seem mindless, he’s got a way of …he’s got a way of making her babble even in her head, she chuckles as he raises his hand to press a lingering kiss against her palm. “How you can still blush after last night I’ll never know …” he finishes when he’s finally got her attention, and, of course, she blushes even hotter at that, because, it’s one to think about having Oliver and then making inappropriate comments about the thing she could never have, and it’s another completely different thing to have Oliver over and over again and  _then_ letting the innuendo escape her mouth.

For one, her comments now come with mental images – no, video – of the actual getting Oliver part, callused hands against sensitive skin, lips that taste faintly of honeysuckle and mint, the overwhelming sense of peace that comes with being in his arms. And, also, there’s that fact that even though she’s gone years without any of those things, now that she’s actually tried them, tried  _him_  - she’s not exactly sure how she’s supposed to go more than a couple of hours without her fix.

This quite possibly makes her a nymphomaniac, maybe even a crazy person, because most her actual memories are so recent that she can’t possibly be wanting more. Not like, right this instant. Except, of course, just as she says that she takes one look at her tiny hand enclosed in Oliver’s, and yup, there it is, that simmering heat.

It’s like she just can’t get  _enough_  of him.

Not that she’s going to say this out-loud, it’s bad enough that she’s let herself think of it and will now be forced to suffer for God knows how long till they actually get to where it is that Oliver is driving towards. But she still has to give him an answer, at least, she thinks she does, so she opens her mouth and just says the first thing that pops into her head.

Always,  _always_  a bad idea.

She really doesn’t mean it as a come-hither. She doesn’t. It just comes out that way. “There are still one or two things we didn’t get to try, Mr. Queen.”

Felicity  _1_ , Oliver  _0_ , she thinks, when there’s no response other than the tightening of his hand on hers. She’s still mentally congratulating herself on getting one over Oliver when the road they’re on suddenly curves into woods – _when did they even make it out of the city_  – and next thing she knows the rumbling of the car has quieted down and Oliver’s hands are reaching for her seatbelt and tugging her towards him in one fluid movement.

“Wow,” she says, when she lands on top of him, and she meant  _Wow, good move_ , not  _Wow, anything else_ , but she is quick to reevaluate when she feels the growing evidence of Oliver’s desire against the thin cotton of her shorts.  

“Tell me, Felicity, what exactly is there on this list of yours?” he purrs, actually purrs, and her brain is short-circuiting as her hands cling to his neck. “Go one by one. I’m going to try to get through all of them before the night is over.”

And, okay, she melts a little. Fine, a  _lot_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Felicity muse is alive and well, as you can see. I've got a couple more prompts half-way done that should go up this week, and then, I'm free for whatever you guys want to throw at me! Give me ideas!

**Author's Note:**

> I apparently can't stop. Bear with me. This will be updated whenever the muse dictates, so if there's anything you'd like to see, send me a prompt! I might just indulge you. (And by might I mean probably, because I'm in a permanent Felicity mode these days, and if I learned one thing in the past forever years of writing is that characters will do as they want)
> 
> As always, you can find me on tumblr: alizziebyanyothername


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